Target Practice
by itbelikethat
Summary: Marlene becomes the victim of an unfortunate target practice incident.


**_This is just a quick one-shot that sprung from a drabble challenge I did with EmoCupCakeGirl. A bit of this was inspired by her drabble "One More Use For Whipped Cream", as you may well recognize. I'm a fanfic noob and haven't written anything for pleasure in a good long while, so this is all new to me. As far as Marlene's habitat goes, I don't have the best idea as to the layout or placement in relation to the penguins' habitat, so please forgive any liberties I took with it. Also, I must mention the great Evvie, whose stories keep me up at night, and who also gave me the guts to give this a shot._**

After what had seemed like an endless run of rainy days, Marlene dozed atop her habitat of simulated stone, soaking in the glorious rays of a midday sun. From the next habitat over, she could just make out the sharp staccato of Skipper barking orders at his men, an undeniable sign that, whatever made up the day's training, it was in full force.

She chuckled inwardly at the thought of the stout little bird pacing before his motley crew, who unfailingly carried out each directive the leader gave, no questions asked. She had to hand it to Skipper, he was charismatic as all get out, and he ran a tight ship.

Within moments, she found her mind wandering dreamily over images of stark black and creamy ivory, letting her imagination take her wherever it may.

Marlene had no idea how long she spent languidly wandering a feathered black and white landscape before she heard Skipper's hollered warning of "Incoming!" followed momentarily by a shadow across the sun, then the shock of a spongy slap to the face.

She sat up suddenly, a pancake, of all things, sliding from her face to land in her lap. Marlene swept her purple heart-shaped sunglasses up atop her head, turning to look in the direction of the penguin habitat. She thought she caught a flash of black and white, gone so fast she couldn't be sure. But she could almost swear she heard the sound of stifled giggling.

She huffed into her whiskers, irritated by the sudden interruption of her mind's dreamy meanderings.

Skipper's head appeared over the iron spikes of Marlene's habitat, an unremorseful look on his face. "Sorry Marlene, but those are the casualties of war, I'm afraid." He hopped over and made his way to the foot of Marlene's cave, looking up at her, flippers on hips. "We try our best to spare the civilians, but every now and then, one is bound to get away from us."

Pancake in hand, she held out her arm, then let it drop. Skipper saw it coming and took a step back, the limp flapjack landing at his feet. "Now, now, Marlene," Skipper chided, "freedom has a price, and sometimes payback may come in the form of a cake to the face. That's not so bad, really, in the scheme of things. Poor Manfredi took one to the eye when Johnson lost a grip on that—"

"Skipper!" Marlene interrupted him. "I don't need anecdotes, I need…" she trailed off, not sure where she was going with that thought exactly. After all, only a moment ago, she had been daydreaming (she begrudgingly admitted to herself) of Skipper, and now here he was. She switched tracks.

"What are you doing shooting pancakes into my habitat, anyway? I mean, I appreciate the thought, but breakfast was hours ago," she joked.

"Target practice," Skipper replied matter-of-factly. "We didn't happen to have any clay pigeons handy. Lucky you. That might have hurt a sight worse than this," he picked up the soggy cake from the ground and shook it limply up at Marlene, the other flipper still on his hip.

"And that brings me to my next question: where, exactly, does a penguin in a zoo come across a pancake?"

"Well, you see, Rico's got a little thing for—" Skipper stopped short. "You know what— nevermind." His furrowed brow smoothed as an idea came over him. "But it does give me an idea. Wait here," he ordered, making for the perimeter of Marlene's habitat. Then he was gone.

Marlene did as she was told, waiting with a confused look on her face for whatever was to come next. A minute or two later, Skipper was back, this time carrying a plate stacked high with whatever was left from target practice. "No reason to let these go to waste," he looked up at her, a big grin curling the edges of his beak, seemingly rather pleased with himself.

Marlene grinned back at him. Her stomach was beginning to growl at the sight of all those pancakes. "Got any syrup?"

Skipper raised an eyebrow. "Even better," he assured her, shifting the plate to one flipper and producing a can of whipped cream from under his left wing. "Look what I found in Kowalski's lab."

"Mmmmm. Let's eat!" Marlene hopped down from her sunning spot and she and Skipper spent the rest of the afternoon in the shade of her cave, eating pancakes and shooting the breeze as the sun continued its lazy trek across the afternoon sky.


End file.
